Chapter 150: Eiravelle Will Be Alright

The infirmary was quiet save for the soft crackle of the candles and the distant sound of the palace settling into sleep. The room was bathed in a warm, golden glow that softened the hard edges of the stone walls and the cold gleam of the medical instruments on the shelves.

Ruthina stayed in the infirmary room, her fever had calmed down, but she spent her entire night crying, knowing she had hurt Eiravelle. The tears had not stopped, not really. They had slowed, occasionally, when exhaustion overtook her, but then the memory would return—the dagger in her hand, the blood on her fingers, the look of shock in Eiravelle’s eyes—and the tears would start again.

She had not eaten. She had not slept. She had simply lain in the bed, her body curled into a tight ball, her face buried in the pillow, and she had wept. The healers had tried to comfort her, had brought her tea and blankets and gentle words, but she had turned away from all of it.

She did not deserve comfort. She did not deserve kindness. She had hurt the one person who had come to save her, the one person who had risked everything to bring her back from the darkness. She was bad. She was broken. She was everything the church had said she was.

Arielle arrived with a bowl of warm broth, the steam rising in delicate curls, and she paused in the doorway when she saw Ruthina crying. The omega was a small, huddled shape in the bed, her blonde hair spread across the pillow like a tangled golden web, her shoulders shaking with the force of her sobs. The sound of her crying was soft, muffled by the pillow, but it was constant, a quiet, unending grief that seemed to fill the room.

Arielle softened, her heart aching at the sight, and she crossed the room quietly, setting the bowl on the bedside drawer before sitting on the edge of the bed. The mattress dipped under her weight, and Ruthina flinched, curling tighter into herself, as though she expected to be struck.

"Ruth..." Arielle gently called out, her voice soft and warm, the voice she used when she was trying to coax a frightened animal out of hiding. She reached out and placed a hand on Ruthina’s shoulder, her touch light, giving the omega the option to pull away if she wanted to.

Ruthina did not pull away, but she did not relax either. She simply lay there, trembling, her tears soaking into the pillow. "Arielle, I... I hurt my sister Eivy~ I... I hurt her... I’m bad," Ruthina sobbed, and her voice was broken, raw, the voice of someone who had been carrying a weight that was too heavy for her to bear.

Arielle immediately shook her head, her hand moving from Ruthina’s shoulder to her hair, stroking the tangled strands gently. "Ruthina, no. That’s not true. You never wanted that to happen. You didn’t hurt Eiravelle," she replied, and her voice was firm, certain, as though she was stating an indisputable fact.

But Ruthina shook her head, convinced that she had hurt Eiravelle with her own hands. The memory was vivid, seared into her mind like a brand. She could still feel the weight of the dagger in her hand, could still see the blood spilling from Eiravelle’s chest, could still hear the sound of Eiravelle’s gasp of pain.

"It was my fault. She wouldn’t be hurt if it wasn’t for me. If it wasn’t me being weak, and if it wasn’t my demons to possess me," Ruthina said, and her voice cracked on the last word, her body trembling with the force of her guilt.

Arielle pulled Ruthina into her embrace, and the omega cried on her shoulder, her tears soaking through Arielle’s gown. Arielle held her close, one hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, the other cradling the back of her head.

She could feel the heat of Ruthina’s skin through the fabric, could feel the rapid, uneven beat of her heart, and she wished, more than anything, that she could take all of Ruthina’s pain and carry it herself.

"You may have hurt her, but it’s not you who hurt her anyway," Arielle said, trying to calm Ruthina. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look into Ruthina’s eyes, to make sure the omega was listening. "The demon hurt her, Ruthina. Not you. You would never hurt Eiravelle. You would never hurt anyone. That’s not who you are."

Ruthina shook her head, her eyes red and swollen, her face blotchy with tears. "You should punish me, I... I hurt your sister... You love her so much, and what I did should be a reason to be my punishment," she sobbed, and her sobs were getting too much, her body trembling so violently that Arielle was afraid she might hurt herself. "I deserve to be punished. I deserve to be hurt. I deserve—"

"No," Arielle said, and her voice was sharp, cutting through Ruthina’s words like a blade. She pulled back fully, her hands on Ruthina’s shoulders, her eyes blazing with a fierce protectiveness. "No, listen to me. You didn’t hurt her, you did nothing wrong, and I know you didn’t want it." There was an edge in her voice that said she was serious, that she would not tolerate Ruthina speaking about herself this way, that she would fight anyone who tried to hurt her, including Ruthina herself.

Ruthina looked at her, her eyes wide and confused, as though she did not understand what Arielle was saying. She had been told, again and again, that she was a burden, that she was a problem, that she deserved whatever pain came her way. And now Arielle was telling her something different, something that contradicted everything she had ever believed about herself.

"I am not angry, and neither is Eiravelle. Please, Ruthina," Arielle said, her voice softer now, gentle and pleading. She wanted Ruthina to believe her, needed her to believe her, because the alternative was too painful to contemplate.

"But the sovereign? She might get angry at me," Ruthina was worried, her mind already racing ahead to all the ways this could go wrong. Qazaethel was powerful, was terrifying when she was angry, and Ruthina had hurt her wife. Surely, there would be consequences. Surely, she would be punished.

Arielle took a deep breath, and she cupped Ruthina’s face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears on her cheeks. "Listen to me carefully. I am not mad, Eiravelle is not mad, and Qazaethel is definitely not mad. No one is mad, I promise you," she said, and her voice was steady, calm, the voice of someone who was absolutely certain of what she was saying.

She continued to soothe the omega, her hands gentle on Ruthina’s face, her voice a soft murmur of reassurance, until Ruthina slowly nodded and believed Arielle. It was not a complete belief, not yet, but it was a start. It was a crack in the wall of guilt and self-loathing that Ruthina had built around herself, and Arielle would take it.

"No one is mad? No one’s gonna hurt me?" Ruthina asked, and there was something in the way she said it, something small and vulnerable, like a child who was asking for reassurance that the monsters under the bed were not real. Arielle knew she was like a scared child, knew that Ruthina had been hurt so many times that she had learned to expect pain, to brace for it, to assume that it was always coming.

Arielle kissed her forehead and smiled, a smile that was full of love and tenderness and a fierce, unyielding determination. "No one is gonna hurt you, no one’s gonna get mad, and no one is going to do anything bad, not even yell or threaten you. They have to deal with me first if ever they do. As long as I am here, I will do everything so you won’t feel that pain again," Arielle said, and her voice was a promise, a vow, a declaration of war against anyone who would ever try to harm Ruthina.

Ruthina sobbed even more when she heard that from Arielle, but these were different tears, not tears of guilt or shame, but tears of relief, of gratitude, of something that felt almost like hope. She had never had anyone promise to protect her before, not really. She had never had anyone stand between her and the world and say, "You will not touch her." And now Arielle was doing exactly that, and Ruthina did not know how to process it.

"Shhh~ let it out, my love. It’s okay. You’re no longer alone, I’m here now," Arielle whispered and kissed Ruthina’s head, holding her close, letting her cry, letting her release all the pain and fear and guilt that had been building up inside her for so long.

The infirmary was quiet around them, the candles burning low, the shadows soft and gentle on the walls. Eiravelle was sleeping in the bed next to Ruthina’s, her breathing steady, her color slowly returning. Qazaethel had finally been convinced to leave, to go and check on Qazaevelle and get some rest herself, though she had only gone after making Arielle promise to send for her the moment Eiravelle woke up.

Xelvyn and Yvaine had returned to the demon realm, their work done, their presence no longer needed. And Arielle was here, holding Ruthina, comforting her, loving her.

She thought of the future, of all the challenges that lay ahead. The church would need to be dealt with, the priests were punished, the corruption rooted out. Ruthina would need time to heal, to recover from the trauma that had nearly destroyed her. Eiravelle would need to rest, to regain her strength. And Qazaethel would need to find a way to balance her duties as sovereign with her duties as a wife and mother.

But those were problems for another day. For now, in this moment, Arielle had only one task: to hold Ruthina, to comfort her, to let her know that she was safe and loved and not alone.

"You’re not bad, Ruthina," Arielle murmured, her lips against Ruthina’s hair. "You’re not broken. You’re not a burden. You’re the most precious thing in my life, and I will spend every day proving that to you until you believe it."

Ruthina’s sobs slowly quieted, her body relaxing against Arielle’s, her breathing evening out. She was exhausted, drained, and eventually, she fell asleep in Arielle’s arms, her face peaceful for the first time in days.

Arielle held her for a long time, watching the rise and fall of her chest, listening to the soft sounds of her breathing. She thought of everything Ruthina had been through, everything she had survived, and she felt a fierce, burning anger at the people who had hurt her.

But anger was for later. For now, she simply held Ruthina, and she waited for the dawn.